Under the Last Rainbow
by Sukkasaku
Summary: “It doesn’t matter if your wings are black... As long as you can fly with them.” Evan/Jeff, one shot.


Title: Under the Last Rainbow

Author: Sukkasaku

Beta: Microsoft Works

Fandom: WWE/pro wrestling

Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance

Rating: T

Paring: Evan/Jeff

Warnings: T for mild bad language

Summary: _"It doesn't matter if your wings are black... As long as you can fly with them."_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, all of them belong to WWE, Uncle Vinnie Mac and themselves.

A/N: It's not been very long when I red a book about "black winged boy"… So the inspiration is mostly from there. I got really huge urge to write this earlier today when I was coming from the school and I started to create the idea piece by piece, and here is the result then.

Sorry about all the grammar and other spelling mistakes, English is not my first language. Still, Read & review and tell me if I should do more of this kind of things or not. Every kind of feedback is appreciated.

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"_It doesn't matter if your wings are black... As long as you can fly with them."_

_And every time they laughed to me more devilish._

_I had always been so different to them. All of them had the nice, clean and white angel wings on their backs, showing of them to each other and laughing how I didn't have them - mine were black, they were the naughty boys wings. But I didn't hate them, no. My wings were more powerful, more beautiful than anyone else's. They were black - but the color wont matter as long as you can fly with them. And I could always fly with mine. No matter what color they were and how long the others tried to beat them down and rip them off from me._

_I wasn't going to lose mine to them. They didn't deserve those._

_I flied to the first safe place I could find to escape from them, to protect my only pair of wings._

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"Get up, you freako!" They laughed so hard I thought my head was about to explode. I had the headache all ready from them bouncing my head against the asphalt and their yelling in my ear didn't make it any better. I did what they told - tried to lift myself from the ground, just to be pushed down again. They laughed, again, starting to kick me.

Everybody saw. Nobody did nothing.

I laid there over an hour after they left. I covered my head with my arms, without shedding even a single tear. I felt peoples eyes on me while they walked by my unmoving body, without doing anything, without asking if I was all right or even checking if I was dead or alive. People didn't give a damn about a lonely, beaten up boy in a small wannabe Cinderella city like this.

When it started to rain, I finally gathered myself to sat up. They had took my only jersey and ripped my jeans, so I just sat down there with a dirty, and soon wet t-shirt on with half ripped jeans. I stared at the sky, escaping the pain by thinking about how much better life would be in there, in Heaven, in the hell where they send Mom many years ago. It might not sound like it, but it really did calm me down. I closed my eyes, just feeling how the huge drops of fresh water fell on my face, washing away the drips of blood that were running down my cheeks.

The street started to fill up with water. Well, what else you could except from a underpass. I pushed myself standing from the ground. I stared at my feet for a while, letting the rain fall into my neck and down to my back, cooling every thoughts I had right then. I closed my eyes, taking couple of deep breaths - it hurt like hell, I probably got another pair of broken ribs. But I couldn't tell anyone about them. Dad would just beat me up worse than those boys, and I couldn't afford the hospital bill, ever.

I slowly started to drag myself toward home. Every step I took made me feel even worse than before and with every step the pain inside me started to grow bigger and bigger. I tried to let it out, I knew I should even try it somehow - so many times people had told me that I shouldn't gather too much of this kind of pain inside me, the only I would be hurting was myself. Hurt me, like everybody else was.

I stopped on the bridge, looking far down on the high way; no cars anywhere. The rain had become harder, making my headache stronger every time a drop hit me on the head. I stared down, the only thing around was the rain dropping against the asphalt, against me and the emptiness around me, all the grayness that stared me quietly, whispering with the wind how they didn't want me to be here. I was a loner. Maybe worse - I was a black winged boy.

One thing crossed my mind there, every time I walked over the bridge on my way home, all beaten up and in a fear what Dad would say when he sees me if he's suddenly home, the same stupid idea wrapped around me and bounced in my head up and down, trying to convince me to go for it and try it out - to climb over the rail of the bridge, look down and not to hold on from my dear life. Make all this pain go away, wipe away all the unseen tears I have shattered from the very beginning… Let me go to Heaven, finally see Mom's face again, see her smile and dive straight into her arms, feeling nothing bad ever again… And be with her forever.

My mind was one step behind my actions - I stood on the rail, stretching my neck over it and peeking down to the high way. It was still empty, cracking up all the rain drops that hit on it. I should end up there too, sooner or later… Probably by someone else if I didn't do it myself. I slowly raised one of my legs over the rail, placing it on the edge of the bridge on the other side - quickly looking around me, without seeing anybody.

I felt cold while I lifted my other leg next to the other on the edge, still staring down. One car zoomed under me, without stopping or even slowing down - it didn't care about a black winged boy who were about to let go from the rail behind him, let go from his miserable little soul, his life and spread his wings in order to fly away from the pain, from everything that was not there, not there for him…

"What are you doing?" That small voice made me stop. I lifted my eyes and looked over my shoulder, staring to a different, scared and kind looking rainbow haired boy who stood only a few feet away from me. I blinked my tired eyes, turning my face away from him. He was here just to hurt me like the others, he didn't look so much different that he could be different.

I felt hand lowering on my shoulder, causing me to gasp loudly. I lost a part of my balance, starting to tremble a bit. "Don't. It's not worth of it."

"You don't know that," I whispered, biting my lower lip. He sounded so much like a black winged boy, but he didn't still look like one, he wasn't one. I wanted to be so sure about it.

He didn't say anything, but I felt the hand still on my shoulder. I turned to look at him again over my shoulder, without turning around from the emptiness in front of me. His eyes were full of kindness and sympathy, but the only thing that could fit in my mind was that he was faking it like everybody else. He looked a bit pale and suffered, he had a tattoo all the way from his neck to the fingers of his right arm. Like he had been through hell just until this point, when he found a broken, black winged boy.

"I tried to fly once," he said whispering, looking like he was trying to hold down tears. "It didn't work and I didn't achieve anything. Just made everybody else broken."

"I can fly," I only answered, turning once again, the last time away from him. "Black wings are specialty for the chosen. You can fly with them."

"I'm not saying you can't fly," he said, releasing his hand from my shoulder. I turned around, this time entirely and looked at him up and down for a while; he looked so similar to me. Broken inside and not showing it outside, feeling hurt and alone, still trying to find somebody to shear the feeling with, even though thinking that there couldn't be such a person. And still… He's standing right there, in front of you.

"I'm just saying that you can't do it alone. This place is too shallow for you spreading your wings."

He looked at me, holding his hand out to me. I hesitate for long, looking at him, the hand and the rainy emptiness around us. And in the end, I grabbed his hand and he helped me back over the rail on the bridge, pulling me against his warming, conservative body holding me in his arms when I finally let it out - I cried as hard as I could, dropping down on his shirt every possible tear that I couldn't had dropped in the past. I felt how my knees fall down under me, me quickly following them; but he didn't leave me. Arms around me, hands slowly petting through my messy, short dark hair and calming words being whispered in my ear with warming, tickling breath… Maybe this was the heaven Mom tried to show me.

The rain stopped when my tears stopped to fall. As the sun pocked itself away behind the clouds, he smiled at me and lifted my eyes to the sun, wiping away all the tears that there was left in my body to cry. He smiled at me and for the first time in almost my whole life, I truly smiled back. He helped me up, holding my hand tight in his own.

"Do you think I could own a pair of black wings too?" he asked, still smiling. I thought about it for a second, before his hair hit on my sight.

"No," I whispered, slightly squeezing his hand in mine, "You have the rainbow colored ones."

That time I knew where the black winged boy was supposed to stand. Where the rainbow colors finally mixed the black in them, making it one of the colors that everybody loved and watched in the rainbow.

I can't describe how perfectly my hand fitted and how perfect it felt right there inside his under the black colored rainbow.


End file.
